What About Love?
by EGB Fan
Summary: Following on from my stories set in the 2020s that some people like, starring the children of both generations Ghostbusters.


**Disclaimer: **_Ghostbusters_ and _Extreme Ghostbusters _© Dan Aykroyd, Harold Ramis and Fil Barlow. Eden Spengler © Fritz Baugh. All other characters © the author (yes, _all_ of them!).

**A/N: **This is another instance when I must warn you that this story takes place in the future, and is driven mostly by original characters. I have a small fan following who enjoy these stories, and I love them for it; but if you think this isn't for you then you are advised to stop reading now.

_Extreme Ghostbusters: _**What About Love?**

**July 2027**

**New York City**

"Not that I'm criticising or anything," Eduardo Rivera said to his sister-in-law, Beth, "but if you'd told me twenty years ago that I'd one day have a daughter-in-law and no sons-in-law, I wouldn't have believed you."

They were in an inexpensive hotel function room, celebrating the marriage of Eduardo's younger daughter Rose and her lover of five years, Anna Rodriguez.

"Are you starting to feel a little outnumbered?" said Beth.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, think about who's come into our family since Kevin. It was Conchita, then Rose - then Kylie, technically, although she'd been there ages already - then Rachel, then Emma, then Charlotte and now Anna. You have a lot of women in your life, don't you?"

Eduardo had never really considered this before, but as Beth listed his daughters, his wife, his nephew's wife and daughter, his granddaughter and brand new daughter-in-law, it struck him that she was right. Not that it mattered, but it was an interesting point.

"Maybe Chita will marry Nick," he said.

"It doesn't sound as though you _like _that idea."

"Well…" He looked to where Nick Chapman, his older daughter's boyfriend, was being chatted up by Anna's younger sister Maria. "I'm just not sure I trust him. Oh, hello."

Eduardo's and Beth's granddaughters had emerged out of the crowd of people. The wedding was supposed to be a family-only affair, but it was a fair-sized gathering anyway, and not just because of Rose's insistence that her oldest and dearest friend, Max Miller, should attend. She had quite a guest list besides him - and Anna had brought two older brothers, one of whom had a wife and small son with him; the flirtatious younger sister, two parents and one grandparent: her father's mother. The other three grandparents were all living, but were not prepared to watch their granddaughter indulge in any kind of affirmation of her homosexual love.

"_There_ you are," said Emma, Beth's nine-year-old granddaughter, steering Charlotte Wu - who was barely thirteen months old - towards Eduardo. "I can't find Conchita or Nick _or_ Kylie! Charlotte got into a fight with Tony," Tony being Anna's toddling little nephew.

"You did what?" said Eduardo, lifting Charlotte into his arms. "Are you okay?"

"_She's_ okay," Emma said ominously.

"Where's your mom?" Eduardo asked. He looked around for Conchita, and soon saw that she had got herself trapped in a conversation with Anna's unmarried brother, who was clearly flirting with her. "Oh. Maybe we'd better go rescue her."

As Eduardo strode purposefully off with Charlotte, Emma's eyes sought out Nick and Anna's sister, and she said, "Dennis would have gone over to Conchita and that guy by now and been all like, 'Get away from my woman!'"

"Yes, well, that's kind of why they split up," said Beth. "Hi, honey."

Carl Rivera, Beth's husband, had joined them, bearing a drink that he had offered to fetch for Beth some minutes ago. He looked to where Rose and Anna were slow-dancing in the middle of the room, and said, "My mother will be spinning in her grave."

"I remember the day Rose came out," said Emma, who had been four at the time. "Your mom was _so_ mad."

"Yeah, she was furious," said Carl, putting his arm around Emma. "It was a shame. They're in love - that's what matters. Mom'd probably be more horrified at Connie, though, not _just_ having a kid out of wedlock but splitting up with the guy as well."

"Grandpa, ssshh - she's coming!" hissed Emma.

Conchita was indeed approaching them, with Charlotte in her arms and both of her parents in tow. When they came within earshot, Conchita was asking, "…don't suppose you know where Nick's gotten to?"

"Nick!" said Charlotte.

"Where? Oh, yeah," said Conchita, following her daughter's pointing finger to where Nick was still engaged in conversation with Maria Rodriguez. "Wow - this family's _all_ trying to get some."

"Maybe that's what Charlotte was so mad with Tony about," Emma said brightly.

"Yeah, and look, I think his mom and dad are arranging a key party with yours," said Kylie Griffin, Conchita's mother, nodding towards Kevin and Rachel Rivera, who were engaged in conversation with Anna's oldest brother and his wife.

Emma wrinkled her nose. "A what?"

"Doesn't that bother you?" asked Carl, looking at Conchita and nodding towards Nick.

Conchita shrugged. "What can I do? I don't want to get possessive. I _can't_ - that's what I dumped Dennis for."

"Hey." Max Miller suddenly appeared among them, and said, "Chita, did you know Rose's sister-in-law is hitting on your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I did," said Conchita.

"Oh," said Max, "Well, I don't like it - I'll go see if I can do anything."

As he turned round, he almost bumped into Rose and Anna, who were crossing the room hand-in-hand.

"Hey," said Max, beaming at them. "You know what? This is great - best lesbian wedding I've ever been to."

"Er, thanks," said Rose. "Listen, we're gonna head off now - we're just saying goodbye to everyone."

"Really? Oh, well - have fun on your honeymoon," said Max, hugging Anna first, and then embracing Rose so tightly he might have crushed her. "And thanks for inviting me - I'm really touched that you did. I love you guys!"

When he had quite finished, Max proceeded towards Maria and Nick, whilst Anna and Rose continued with the farewells. Nick soon approached and Charlotte, who had been given to Rose, stretched out her hands towards him and joyously said his name.

"Hey, beautiful," said Nick, taking the child into his arms. "So you guys are going now, huh? Have fun and everything, won't you?"

Rose assured him that they would, though she didn't inject much expression into her voice - she made no secret of not liking her sister's latest flame.

Anna politely shook hands with her new set of in-laws, and then when she turned round to go off in search of her own parents, she stopped dead and exclaimed, "Whoa!"

"Fast worker, isn't he?" said Nick, following Anna's gaze to where Max was standing with his lips glued to those of Anna's little sister.

"She is unbelievable," said Anna.

"Why?" said Rose. "It's only Max - it's not like he's my sister's boyfriend or anything." Here she spared a disapproving glance for Nick. "They might be good together."

Anna made no further comment on the matter, but continued to say goodbye to other members of her family - ones that were not busy seducing people. Rose moved away from her to say a few words to her maternal grandfather, Steve Griffin. He was the only one of her grandparents present. Whilst her father's parents were both dead, and had both been homophobic in life, Kylie's mother was neither of these things; she simply had not been invited, as Rose barely knew her and didn't much like what she _did_ know.

Before they left, both Rose and Anna felt compelled to hug their respective parents one more time, and as they did so they all gushed proclamations of love and pride and happiness. Conchita watched as Rose said something to Kylie, whilst looking in Anna's direction with so much love in her eyes that her sister was moved almost to tears.

"You are such a hopeless romantic," said Nick.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," said Conchita.

"I just don't see why we all have to get out our hankies because they've put on a couple of nice dresses and said 'I do'. They've been together for years, and nothing's gonna be any different when they get back from their thing."

"Honeymoon. And it means a lot to them. _You_ don't have to understand that - the important thing is that _they_ do."

Nick shrugged. "I guess."

"Does this mean you don't want to get married?"

"Aw, Connie - do we have to have this conversation now?"

"It was just a question," said Conchita. "I'm not proposing."

"Well," said Nick, "I don't feel like I need a piece of paper to prove I love you."

Conchita raised her eyebrows. "_Do_ you love me?"

"Yeah, 'course I do."

"Well then, I don't have a problem with you not needing a piece of paper. There are other ways to have a committed relationship, aren't there?"

"Um… what do you mean?"

She shrugged, and said, "Nothing in particular."

.-.-.-.

**Los Angeles**

"Er… excuse me, do you mind?"

Oscar Venkman, on walking into his living room, found a small orange demon flicking through the channels on his TV.

"You won't even know I'm here," said the demon.

"But I _do_ know you're here. And you can't stick around - I've got some guys coming."

"Oscar, please, I need a place to crash for a few hours. I am _stressed out_!"

"Yeah, you look it," said Oscar, sitting down beside the demon, who did not stop channel-hopping on his account. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I doubt it."

"You wanna try me?"

"No. But listen, I put my head in at your buddy Conchita's little sister's wedding," the demon said chattily, turning off the TV. "I've got a good feeling about those two."

"Was that Chapman guy there?"

"Yes."

"Hmm… nearly a year on and he's still going to family things with her," said Oscar. "Maybe I was wrong about him."

"Maybe. So what guys are coming?"

"I'm being interviewed for a documentary."

"Oh, cool. A documentary about what?"

"Goat farming in the Outer Hebrides."

"Really?"

Oscar gave the demon a withering look. "No. It's about Mood Slime."

"Y'know, sarcasm is _not_ the highest form of intelligence, and it is very ugly," said the demon. "So, like, they're doing a documentary _all_ about Mood Slime? It's not about rock music in the twenty-tens or anything? It's _just_ about you?"

"Yep," said Oscar. "It'll just be the four of us, talking to the camera, with a bit of archive footage probably, and newspaper cuttings, and publicity shots…"

"Of you doing what?"

"I don't know - all kinds of stuff. We've talked about this, and we've agreed to tell them absolutely _everything_ - and that includes stuff the press never got hold of. We're not that far off forty now - well… Danny's still just about thirty-eight, but he'll be nearly there by the time the thing airs - so we've decided it's time to be honest."

"Why? What does being nearly forty have to do with anything?"

"Well," said Oscar, "we're getting old, so we don't really care anymore. Well, _I _don't, and the others all say the same. We'd rather be upfront with the fans than protect our pride. But I'm still nervous, though. I'm gonna tell them stuff my family doesn't even know about - and they'll only pick the best bits for the final cut, of course. Only the bits that are gonna _really _shock people."

"Really?" the demon asked keenly. "Can I stay and listen?"

Oscar winced. "Must you? You might distract me, and then they'll think I'm crazy."

"I shouldn't have asked," said the demon. "I'll just be invisible - you'll never even know. Ooh!" as the doorbell sounded. "That'll be them."

Oscar answered the door to a small camera crew, a makeup artist and a no-nonsense woman in a business suit who talked to him while the crew set up in front of a large window overlooking a deserted stretch of beach.

"I have a list of things I want to cover," the woman said briskly, "but I'm hardly going to ask you any questions at all. You just tell us about _everything _that's happened to you since the moment you met your fellow band members, all right? Whatever comes to mind. And I'll occasionally give you a few prompts."

"Really?" said Oscar. "Everything? That'll take me hours."

"We have plenty of time," the woman said airily. "And plenty of editors to sift through everything the four of you have said and pick out the best bits. I've already interviewed Tim and Ella - perhaps you're aware. So I may ask you about some of the things they've said, which you might not have realised we know about. All right?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. Hey, what's your name?"

"Monica Preston. Now sit over there, and Katie will put some foundation on you."

It didn't occur to Oscar not to obey this woman's every command. He went and sat on a strategically placed chair, and smiled reassuringly at Katie as she hurried over and began work on his face as though scared of the consequences of being too slow.

.-.-.-.

**New Jersey**

There was a reason why Nick referred to Rose and Anna's post-wedding bonding time as a "thing" rather than a honeymoon. "Honeymoon" seemed a bit grand for a week in a cousin's house just a short distance away.

"So which one's ours?" asked Anna, once they had taken their bags out of the cab, and stood looking at the pair of semi-detached houses.

"That one," said Rose, pointing to the house on their right. "The other one has the ghosts and monsters and things in it. Matt'll be staying in there."

"Yeah?" said Anna. "How thick are the walls?"

"Well," said Rose, "maybe you should just try to control yourself."

Matt Fowler-Davies was Kylie's first cousin. He was a few days off turning forty-two, but he had always looked younger than he was, and at the moment he could have passed for about thirty-five. Rose had barely finished speaking when he came out of the house on the left and started making his way down the garden path.

"How come you didn't invite him?" asked Anna, before Matt was within earshot. She had met him a few times before, but didn't know him well.

Rose shrugged. "He hates weddings."

"Yeah, so do you."

"Well I didn't hate this one - it was mine. Hello," as Matt approached.

"Hey," he said, smiling at Rose but not hugging her, because he knew she wasn't a tactile person. "Congratulations. Listen, I've got in loads of food and stuff for you, and a brand new TV guide - you won't even have to leave the house."

"Cool, thanks," said Rose. "And just try to keep the neighbours in there with you, okay?"

Anna knew all about how Matt had come to own both halves of a pair of semi-detached houses, one of which was inhabited by supernatural beings of various kinds. The one which wasn't haunted he had inherited from his grandfather twenty years ago. He had then befriended Mr. and Mrs. Smith, the elderly couple living next door, learnt that they shared their house with a lot of paranormal pets and finally been charged with their care and protection when Mrs. Smith passed away six months after her husband.

But in spite of knowing all this, Anna was surprised enough to cry out when she saw a small monster rummaging around in a low kitchen cupboard. It turned round, looking as startled as she was, and stared up at her with huge, childlike eyes. Neither of them had time to speak before Rose came in, took one look at the monster and said wearily, "What are _you_ doing here? Didn't Matt tell you to stay on your own side?"

"I'm hungry," the monster said, in a voice as childlike as its face.

"What? Don't be ridiculous - Matt has cereal."

"We've run out."

"Then he'll get you some more in the morning."

"But I'm hungry _now_!"

"All right, all right," Rose said hastily, and she turned to open a high cupboard stocked with breakfast cereal. "Look, there's plenty here. If I give you a couple of these, will you promise not to bother us again?"

"Why?" said the monster, gratefully taking the two boxes of cereal that Rose passed down to him. "What are you going to do?"

"Never you mind," said Rose.

When they were unpacking their stuff in one of the bedrooms upstairs, both looking for the tools of their pre-bedtime rituals, Rose began explaining the small creature to Anna as best she could: "There's three of them: him, and two parents. We call him 'him', anyway, but I'm not even convinced they have sex organs. He has a mom and a dad, like I said, but he's stuck in this kind of state of perpetual childhood, so it can't _all_ be done the usual way. He used to eat this powdered just-add-water kids' cereal thing when I was little, but they stopped making that a few years ago and he doesn't like any other baby food, so now he eats the same stuff the adults eat."

"That's insane," said Anna.

"They're from England. I think. That's where the Smiths brought them from, anyway."

"Is that relevant?"

"I don't know."

"I guess he's kinda cute, really," said Anna.

Rose raised her eyebrows. "Yeah? I don't like him much, to be honest - he's too like a human kid."

"You don't hate human kids _that_ much, do you? You like Charlotte."

"That's different - she's my niece."

"Do you like Tony?"

Rose was silent for a moment. Then she said, "I'm sure I can learn to like Tony."

"You don't want to _have_ kids, then?"

"Um… maybe we should have had this conversation before we got married."

"It's okay," said Anna. "I don't want to either. I just thought I should ask, because if you did… I mean, what would we do, use Max and a turkey baster?"

"I think that would be the cheapest and most stress-free way," said Rose.

"So… how would we decide which of us was going to have the baby?"

"Well there's not a lot of point in talking about it, is there, as neither of us wants to. I like things the way they are," said Rose. "Just you and me in a cheap downtown apartment, both struggling to make a living from our art. That's all I've ever wanted."

"Really?" said Anna. "You wanted us to struggle?"

"Yeah, it's romantic."

They exchanged a soppy, affectionate smile. Then they resumed unpacking in silence until Anna found a bottle of viscous purple liquid and some spherical candles in one of her bags. She disappeared with these, announcing that she was going to run them a bath.

"Congratulations," a voice said, when Anna had gone and Rose had just unearthed her toothbrush. Rose turned round, and saw an orange demon sitting on the double bed.

"_You're_ not one of Matt's," she said.

"That's quite right," the demon said. "I'm not."

"Okay, well, do you want something? Because this is kind of my wedding night."

"Oh, don't worry, it won't take long. I'd like to talk to you about one of your friends."

.-.-.-.

**New York City**

After baring his soul to a bossy woman with a camera, Oscar had felt suddenly insecure and vulnerable, and found himself gravitating towards the city where his family all lived. Unfortunately he found both his sister's and his parents' houses empty, so he bought a bunch of flowers and then went to see a friend instead.

"Aww, they're beautiful, thank you," Conchita gushed, taking the flowers and letting him into her - or, rather, Nick's - apartment.

"Thank Dawn Jackson," said Oscar, referring to the nineteen-year-old niece of an ex-girlfriend of his, and of course her various brothers - one of them Roland Jackson, who'd been a Ghostbuster with Conchita's parents. "I never get flowers anywhere else now."

"Oh, yeah, she's good, isn't she? Sit down - I'll just put these in some water. What can I get you to drink?"

Once they were settled on the couch with a cold drink to combat the hot weather, Oscar said, "Are you on your own?"

"Yeah," said Conchita. "Charlotte's with Dennis and Nick's working."

"Working? But it's Sunday."

"I suppose you know who he's working for?"

"It wouldn't happen to be my little sister, would it?"

Jessica Venkman was a ruthless and diligent property developer with quite a few million dollars under her belt, and since Oscar had passed on a business card to her from Nick almost a year ago, he had become a favourite builder of hers.

"But even _she_ doesn't normally make people work on a Sunday," said Oscar, once Conchita had confirmed that Nick was indeed gutting a house for Jessica. "Are you sure that's what he's doing?"

"Well," said Conchita, "Jess called first thing this morning to ask, and I answered the phone, so if he's cheating on me then he's doing it with her."

"She's not at home," said Oscar.

"Oh, well - that must be it, then."

They both laughed, knowing it wasn't true. But the difference was that Conchita obviously trusted Nick; Oscar wasn't so sure. He knew that ten years ago, Jessica would happily have slept with a fit and attractive guy like that - it certainly wouldn't have been the first time she'd seduced one of her labourers. But now he was confident that she wouldn't cheat on her husband, and maybe that was the only thing stopping Nick.

"Seriously," said Conchita, "I think he was glad of the chance to get away."

"What makes you say that?" asked Oscar, preparing to get into Reassuring Friend Mode.

"Well, Charlotte's not here, so it was just me and him, and I think I might have freaked him out a little bit."

"How come?"

"I've been dropping hints that I want to have a baby."

"Oh!" said Oscar, who had not been expecting that.

"It doesn't have to be, like, _now_," said Conchita. "But I want to _fairly _soon - hopefully before Charlotte gets too set in her ways - and I need to know now if kids are in his long-term plans because otherwise there's no point in me staying with him."

"Really?" said Oscar. "What about love?"

"Oscar, come on, you know me. I wouldn't stay with any man, no matter how much I loved him, if I couldn't persuade him to give me a baby."

"Then maybe you should just ask him if that's what he wants," said Oscar.

"That may not work. He could easily lie if he wanted to stay with me indefinitely. I _know_ he doesn't want to get married."

"Well _that_ doesn't sound good."

"That's because you don't buy into the whole it's-just-a-piece-of-paper thing," said Conchita. "But I do. It doesn't _have_ to be that he's scared to commit - it could really be as simple as he believes that living with me and my daughter and sleeping with me and one day having a baby with me does more to prove his love than a certificate with our signatures on it. I get that - but the problem is that I don't know _what_ he wants because it's been less than a year and it's too early to expect him to be thinking about this stuff." She sighed, and added, "Sometimes I wish I'd married Dennis like I said I was going to."

"What?" said Oscar. "But if you'd done that, you wouldn't be happy, surely."

"I don't know," said Conchita. "I _did_ love him."

"But not by the time you dumped him."

"Yeah, well… oh, this is going to sound terrible, but it doesn't _matter_. We'd been going out for four years, we already had one child, we were going to get married and another baby was the next logical step. I _know_ I'm looking at it all wrong, and of _course_ I want to meet the right guy and fall in love - _really_ fall in love - and _all _that stuff. But it could be years before that happens, and if it's too late to have another baby… I will be _so_ pissed."

"Wow," said Oscar. "You _really_ want to have another baby, don't you?"

"Yes. Of course," Conchita said thoughtfully, "I _could_ go back to Dennis."

"Chita."

"What?"

"Aren't you being a bit… Do you _want_ to go back to Dennis?"

"It was good," she said. "What I had with Dennis. I wouldn't mind sleeping with him again - I really enjoyed that."

"What about Nick?" asked Oscar.

He hadn't been referring just to the physical side of things, but Conchita answered, "It's good with him too, but it's different - y'know? Sex with Nick is, is _fun_; with Dennis it was really kind of intense and serious."

"Which is better?" Oscar couldn't help asking, out of idle curiosity.

"Neither," said Conchita. "They're both good in their own way."

"I'd like to tell you to think about which one of them you really love," said Oscar. "But you've already said that's not important."

"Please don't judge me," said Conchita.

"I'm not."

"I can't tell you how much I want to have a baby."

"Probably about as much as I wanted that first record deal."

"If that's true, you must have wanted it so badly you _ached_."

"Oh, I did," said Oscar. "I wanted it so badly I let Amy Jackson dump me, if you recall. She kind of implied she'd stay with me if I stuck around, but I just couldn't."

"You were crazy about her," said Conchita. "God, that seems like forever ago."

"Tell me about it," said Oscar. "I spent yesterday afternoon going over every detail of my life since I was thirteen years old. I was talking for so long, and _so_ many things have happened - it kinda scared me."

Conchita, who was not aware of any documentary in the making, asked him to explain. Oscar told her about his pact of honesty with the other three members of Mood Slime, and how nervous he was of that footage actually airing in several months' time. As he spoke, he seemed to be gripped with a terrible dread, as though hearing the words out loud from his own mouth made him realise what he had done.

"I told them _everything_!" he lamented. "Stuff only my family knows about, and stuff even _they_ don't know about…"

"And there was I thinking you'd told _me_ everything," said Conchita.

"Not quite everything. You remember I told you I used to be a bit weird about food?"

"Yeah…?"

"Well…" Oscar pushed out his lower lip with his tongue, pointed two fingers at his mouth and made a gagging noise.

Conchita raised her eyebrows. "You were bulimic?"

"Yeah."

"Wow."

After that, she seemed to struggle to think of something to say. Fortunately the front door then opened, and Nick sauntered into the room with his usual air of knowing he was sexy. Oscar hated that, partly because he recognised his younger self in it, and realised too late how annoying it was for everybody else.

"Hey, babe," Nick said, pulling Conchita's head against his chest and kissing her hair in a playful kind of way. "Hey, Oscar."

Oscar thought that if he was a woman trying to choose between Dennis Wu and this guy, he'd be having a hard time too. The differences were so pronounced, it was hard to compare them. If Dennis had walked into his living room and found his lover talking to Oscar - a rich, good looking rock star with whom she had a close friendship - he would never have been able to say "Hey, Oscar" in such an offhand manner and then go and start making himself a cup of coffee.

"Your sister is such a slave driver," said Nick, leaning against the side of the kitchenette in a model-like pose while he waited for the kettle to boil. "I've been a professional builder for ten years - I've built up my calluses. Then I spend a few hours on a Sunday with her and my hands start bleeding."

"Wow," Conchita said to Oscar. "They must have been doing something kinky."

"I'm not surprised, if that's what she's into," said Oscar. "I can't see Hayden agreeing to anything like that."

"What's this?" asked Nick, smiling at their laughter as he sat down with his coffee.

"We've figured out that you're sleeping with Jessica," said Conchita.

"Damn," said Nick. "Nothing gets past you, Connie. Hey, when's my girl getting back?"

He meant Charlotte. Oscar had always had a bad feeling about Nick, and it was even shared to some degree by Jessica, who worked closely with him. She had once described his relationship with Conchita as "just hot people having hot sex", and even though he knew Jessica was not the most reliable judge of the situation, Oscar could believe that the relationship meant little more than that to Nick. His doubts had intensified that afternoon, when Conchita started talking about the possibility of marriage, or rather the lack thereof - and yet there were little things to make Oscar doubt his instincts. Nick's fondness for Charlotte was one of them. It couldn't be ignored - not by someone who had a very close relationship with his stepfather.

"It'll probably be a couple of hours," said Conchita, in answer to Nick's question.

"Oh, hey - tell me about the wedding," said Oscar, suddenly remembering.

"It was funny," said Nick. "Anna's family are all really horny. Connie got hit on by her brother and me by her sister. Hey, how old is Maria, anyway?"

"Twenty, I think," said Conchita.

"Oh, about my age," said Nick, who was thirty. "She was pretty scary, actually. I mean, I know it wasn't the _most_ full-on wedding, but I thought it was plenty - and she just kept talking about how crap it was, and how much better _her_ wedding was gonna be, and she wished someone would hurry up and propose so she could get started on it."

"I used to be like that," said Conchita, "when I was about six."

"And now?" Nick said soberly.

"_Now_ I know the importance of waiting for the right guy."

Oscar bit his tongue. It would be impolite to ask, but he couldn't understand why waiting for the right guy to marry was so much more important than waiting for the right guy to have a baby with. She seemed prepared to do _that_ with pretty much anyone.

"Con," said Nick, "do you know if Maria and Max are seeing each other now, or was that just for fun? Because if he's not careful…"

"Was what just for fun?" Oscar asked, sitting up suddenly and not making a very good attempt to hide the anxiety in his voice.

"They kissed," said Conchita.

"Anything else?"

"Um… I don't know. I can call and ask him, if you're both really that interested."

"Yeah, go on then," said Nick, playing with his hair as he spoke. Oscar couldn't believe how like his twenty-year-old self this guy was (he'd changed by the time he was thirty).

Conchita crossed the room, picked up the phone and dialled. After a short interval she said, "Hi, Max, it's Chita. Look, I know it's none of my business, but Nick wants to know if you and Maria are seeing each other… Because he's a pervert, I guess…"

Conchita came from a family of serious people, and could be very serious herself at times, but Nick certainly seemed to bring out her sense of humour. Actually, now that he thought about it, Oscar was unnerved by how much their relationship reminded him of his mother and stepfather. Nick had only to father Conchita's second child and start nurturing Charlotte's dream of being a rock star, and it would be just plain spooky.

"If you _really_ want to know," said Conchita, once she had hung up and was returning to her spot on the sofa, "they played around on Max's couch for an hour and a half and then made a date for tomorrow night."

"Oh," said Oscar.

"Doesn't bother you, does it?" asked Nick.

"No, no, of course not," said Oscar. "So tell me more about the wedding."

"Oh, it was _so_ beautiful," said Conchita, clearly getting ready to gush, and as she talked Oscar found her increasingly baffling. She clearly believed that her sister had found her one true love, and must surely covet the degree of happiness and fulfilment she was describing, and yet was prepared to attach herself to just any man - whether she loved him or not - in order to secure a few offspring before she started looking for it in earnest.

When she talked about vows, Nick had to get up and leave the room, and once again he was blacklisted by Oscar. He returned within a few minutes, having allegedly gone to the bathroom, and then the three of them discussed movies they had seen recently until Dennis showed up with Charlotte. Here Nick leapt to his feet, snatched the little girl from her father's arms and started doing everything he could to make her laugh. Oscar was tempted to be touched, and reminded of Peter in days long gone by - but then he looked at Dennis's sour expression, and got the feeling that Nick was only doing it to annoy him.

"I guess I should be going," Dennis said at last.

"You can stay if you want to," said Conchita, taking Charlotte from Nick.

"No, no, that's okay, I have to…" He mumbled something inaudible, kissed Charlotte and then left.

"I'm gonna go too," said Oscar, getting to his feet. "As you're here, Nick, that probably means Jess is home by now. Or did she stay on?"

"No, she left," said Nick. "But I wouldn't go over there yet if I were you. She told me Hayden's leaving the boys with your parents and she and him are gonna…" He glanced at Charlotte, and then finished, "take advantage of their absence."

Oscar blinked. "She _told_ you that?"

"Well, maybe not in so many words."

"Right," said Oscar. "Well then, I'll go to Mom and Dad's."

As he made his way down to the ground floor of the apartment block, Oscar's amazement at his sister announcing the intimacies of her marriage to her builder developed into a line of serious thought. If Jessica told Nick things like when she planned on making love to her husband, maybe he told _her_ things like whether or not he could see himself in any real future with his current girlfriend. She could be a mine of information.

The more he thought about it, however, the more Oscar realised how unlikely it was that Nick would betray any dishonourable intentions regarding Conchita to one of her friends. But still the thought wouldn't leave him. He almost wished that Jessica would tell him Nick had only ever wanted Conchita for her body, and he had no intention of fathering her child at any time. Then she'd go back to Dennis. Okay, so they'd had their share of problems, but Oscar had always liked Dennis and Conchita together as much as if they were characters in a soap opera with whom he engaged.

He was just thinking this, and approaching his car, when Dennis suddenly appeared in his line of vision and said, "Hey."

"Hi," said Oscar, suddenly feeling nervous. For some reason, Dennis had had that effect on him since Conchita had revealed that he perceived Oscar as a threat to his relationship.

"Listen," said Dennis, "I know it's a little late for this, but I owe you an apology."

"Oh," said Oscar. "Um… why?"

"Because she never saw you as more than a friend," said Dennis. "I should have seen that. But I just got so jealous, it made me crazy, and now…"

"Dennis," said Oscar, feeling himself swell with hope. This was all Conchita needed to hear - and maybe "let's have another baby" as well, but this was a very good start. "Why don't you go back up there and tell _her_ all of this? All she ever wanted was - "

"It's too late for that," Dennis said forlornly. "_He's_ with her now."

"Well, yes, but it can't hurt to - "

"All the time I was getting so worked up about _you_, I didn't see what was right in front of me. It was him - _he_ was the one moving in on her and my daughter and trying to take them away from me. And I just stood by and let him do it!"

Oscar stared at him for a moment, too shocked even to close his mouth. Then at last he said, "You still don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?" said Dennis.

"What she _wants_ from you!" Oscar cried exasperatedly. "Look, she's a beautiful woman. You'd probably be hard pushed to find a man who didn't look at her twice, and there's nothing you can do about that. But they're not lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce when _your_ back is turned. She has a choice. You can't force her to stay with you - you have to make her _want_ to stay. She only ever wanted you to love and trust her."

Dennis looked shocked as he listened to this. Then his eyes narrowed, and he said, "You don't know shit about my relationship with her."

"Dennis, please," Oscar said helplessly. "She's my friend. She confides in me."

"Nick was hitting on her for weeks! She was _pregnant_!"

"Yeah, and if you'd known? What would you have done?"

"I'd have stopped it."

"Uh… how?"

"That hardly matters now."

"You know what?" said Oscar. "You don't deserve her."

With that he got into his car, turned the ignition key and drove off as quickly as he could without Dennis - who happened to be a cop - arresting him. He had arrested Nick once, Oscar recalled, probably for disturbing the peace, as he had managed to engage him in an argument - though Oscar knew that, off the record, it was for holding Dennis's six-week-old daughter and flirting with her mother. That was when he'd started to lose sympathy with Dennis. Prior to that he had wondered if maybe Conchita was overreacting to the possessiveness, and perceiving it as being more than it was. But now he knew better.

"Oh, hey," said Oscar, when he saw that the demon had appeared in the car beside him.

"What happened?" asked the demon. "You're, like, all tense and stuff."

"I am no longer a Dennis and Conchita shipper," said Oscar.

The demon laughed at that. Then it said, "So what about Nick?"

"Oh God, I don't know. I'm still not sure if I trust him, but…"

"Yes?"

"He kinda reminds me of my dad."

"Oh, really? Which one?"

"Which one do you think? Hey, listen, I think I know why you're stressed."

"Oh yes?" said the demon. "Do share."

"It's Max and that sister of Anna's, isn't it?"

"You've never met Maria Rodriguez. How do you know she's not perfect for him?"

"Because," said Oscar, "there's somebody else who's perfect for him. I realised that about a year ago, based on your clues - and I was right, wasn't I?"

"Well… maybe. But they're obviously still not together, Max and whoever she is."

"I blame Max for that. He's on a completely different planet than the rest of us - he can't see what's in front of his face."

"No," said the demon. "He can only see what's _on_ his face, poking her tongue into his mouth. But she - the woman - knows that. She should tell him how she feels."

Oscar nodded slowly. "Yup."

.-.-.-.

This time, when Oscar drove to his parents' house, they were home - and, as promised, they had their two young grandsons with them. They were all pleasantly surprised to see their visitor, and a good time was had by all. Then, after a couple of hours, Oscar phoned Jessica to let her know that he was there, and to offer to drive her sons home.

Not long after that, he was having coffee with her in her kitchen while Hayden was upstairs, putting Robbie to bed and trying to persuade Tom to get into the bath. Between them they were creating an awful lot of noise; Tom and Robbie were a few months shy of four and two years old, and about as spirited as children of that age generally are.

"So did you get much done today?" Oscar asked, making an effort to sound casual.

"Yeah, tons," said Jessica. "We knocked down two internal walls for starters."

"I hope they weren't load-bearing."

"Don't be stupid - of course they weren't load-bearing. I know a load-bearing wall when I see one, and so does Nick."

"You like Nick, don't you?" said Oscar.

"He's a really good builder who doesn't overcharge - they're rare. And he's fun."

"Fun? What kind of fun? You're supposed to be working, not having fun."

"Jesus, Oscar, what's gotten into you?"

Oscar didn't speak for a moment, wondering whether to follow this through. Then he said, "Does he talk to you about Conchita much?"

"No, never," said Jessica. "It's work - we don't talk about our personal lives."

"You did today."

"Did we? Well… he may have asked me if I'd made any plans. Look, what _is_ this?"

"What _do_ you talk about?"

"I don't know. Money and plans and building materials. And stupid stuff which doesn't make any sense - he's an outrageous flirt."

Oscar sat up straighter in his seat. "He flirts?"

"Yeah, so? It's no big deal - he knows I'm married."

"Um… doesn't that make it worse?"

"Of course not. Oscar, come on, he's not gonna flirt seriously with _me_ when he's living with Conchita, is he? I'm eight years older than her, I've _never_ been as pretty and I've had twice as many babies. Hello," as Hayden walked in. "Has Tom had his bath yet?"

"No," said Hayden, "I thought I'd let you try, as you're going up there anyway. Robbie wants you."

In her younger days, Jessica had always vowed never to be at anyone's beck and call, but now that she was a mother she submitted unquestioningly to her role as slave. Once she had left the room and was safely out of earshot, Oscar looked at Hayden and said, "Did you know she flirts with Nick?"

"Well, Nick's a good looking guy," said Hayden. "If I spent long enough on a building site with him, I'd probably start flirting with him too."

"Don't you take anything seriously?" said Oscar, frowning at him.

"I don't know. What are you asking me?"

"Does it _really_ not bother you?"

"What would be the point? There's nothing I can do about it."

"You could ask her not to."

"On what grounds?"

"She's your wife!"

"Oh, right, okay then," said Hayden. "I'll just go upstairs and tell her not to flirt with her builders because she's my wife, shall I? Perhaps you could get started making up the bed in the spare room for me - it'd save time."

"You're allowed to get jealous," said Oscar.

"Look, it's flirting. It's just words. As long as she's not touching him I can't object."

"Hayd, that sounds like what Jessica thinks. What do _you_ think?"

"I think," Hayden said patiently, "that I've already had this conversation with her once before. It started with me getting shirty with her, and ended with her accusing me of not trusting her and shutting me out of our bedroom. I don't really want to do it again."

"That strikes me as an overreaction," said Oscar, glancing at the ceiling as Robbie broke into a tantrum somewhere above his head.

"Yes, well, you know her as well as I do. But the point is I trust her not to cheat on me, and that's the important thing. Anyway, why does it matter to you so much? I'm a protective older brother myself, and even I don't mind if Em flirts a little bit."

"Of course not - you hate her husband. Anyway, it's not Jessica I'm trying to protect."

Robbie's screaming, meanwhile, was becoming increasingly louder. Evidently Jessica had decided to leave him to it, as she came back into the kitchen leading Tom by the hand - still bone dry and no cleaner than he had been an hour ago.

"He has got a killer temper on him, that boy," Jessica said wearily.

"Where do you think he gets that from?" said Hayden.

"You."

Hayden let the comment go with an indulgent smile. Then he looked down at his son, and said, "What are you doing down here, Tom? Have you been winding up your brother?"

"No," said Tom. "Mom just _thinks_ I will."

"Mmm, I wonder what gave her that idea."

"You guys should learn to be a little more trusting," Oscar said lightly.

"Oscar," said Tom. "Let me show you my dinosaur farm."

"Um…"

"You're supposed to be taking a bath," said Jessica.

"Just until Robbie calms down," said Tom, somehow making his eyes look more than twice their normal size. "Please, Mom-meee!"

"Oh, all right, just five minutes," said Jessica. "God, you're so _manipulative_."

It was almost an hour later that Tom was having his bath, and Oscar was climbing into his car where - once again - the demon had apparently been waiting for him.

"I actually don't see the point of wanting kids if your sister has them," Oscar said chattily, as he started up the car. "She has to do all the hard stuff and I just get to play with them."

"I don't know _what_ you think you're playing at," said the demon.

"Y'know," Oscar went on, ignoring the remark (whatever it meant), "I thought she must have changed her views about the oppressive nature of marriage, but maybe not. I mean, did you hear Hayden back there? 'Oh no, can't say that - I'm not allowed!'"

"Well, which of them did you _expect_ to be the dominant one in that marriage?"

"Why does there have to be a dominant one at all?"

"Look," said the demon, "you need to get off Chapman's case."

"Why? He's sleeping with my friend and flirting with my sister - that's terrible."

"Like Hayden said, flirting is only flirting."

"Why isn't he insanely jealous?" said Oscar. "I'm sure Nick's better looking than him."

"And yet all she did with Nick was flirt with him for a while, before spending the rest of the afternoon in bed with her husband. I don't need to tell you which one of them she really wants. Hayden doesn't perceive Nick as a threat to his marriage - and actually those two are my favourite project in my portfolio, so I'd rather you didn't encourage him to commit the very crime for which you condemned Dennis Wu only hours ago."

"What crime?"

"Jealousy."

"Dennis wasn't just jealous," said Oscar. "He was unreasonably possessive. He was constantly waiting for guys just to look at her the wrong way so he could gun them down before they got too close. It's hardly the same."

"You're making a lot of judgements about other people's relationships."

"Yeah, so are you."

"I'm a demon - I'm allowed."

"Oh yeah? Who says?"

"I want to keep talking about _you_," the demon changed the subject. "I'm inclined to agree with the point Hayden was making, in a round-about kind of way: Conchita Rivera is not your little sister. Why take such an overbearing brotherly interest in her affairs?"

"Well," said Oscar, "I _have_ a little sister, but _she_ doesn't need me."

The demon cocked an eyebrow. "You feel unfulfilled in your role of older brother? Is that really the reason?"

"I don't know," said Oscar. "It's as good a reason as any."

.-.-.-.

**Los Angeles**

**Six Days Later**

One of the things Oscar had talked to the documentary makers about was guitarist Tim Price's marriage to small-time model Kimmy Delaney. Kimmy's career had grown quite significantly when she married Tim, but she had never quite made it into the big leagues. The marriage had helped Mood Slime too. Oscar remembered telling the camera: "Moms kinda liked Tim. I mean, Ella had her drug problems; Danny was gay… still; I was this long-haired unshaven hooligan belting out offensive lyrics and Tim was getting married."

It was exactly the kind of spiel that people liked to put in their documentaries, but it was also true. It seemed that the masses would never stop loving celebrity weddings, and if they saw disaster looming, very few of them said anything. Tim and Kimmy had married when he was twenty-nine and she twenty-three. Three years later Kimmy gave birth to a little girl whom they named Courtney Delaney-Price, and another three years after that came identical twin girls called Madison and McKenzie Delaney-Price. When glossy magazines were announcing the births and the pretentious names, it might have given some the impression that this particular showbiz couple was only in it for the publicity.

But, another five years after the birth of the twins, they were still together - and on this particular afternoon, they were bringing their daughters and their month-old son Dylan to visit Oscar. When Oscar accepted Kimmy's offer to hold Dylan, he was reminded of a promise he had made to Eden Spengler - the twenty-eight-year-old daughter of a friend and work colleague of Peter Venkman's. She had called him a week after Dylan was born to ask irately, "Have you seen this magazine article about your friend Tim's son?"

"Which one?" Oscar had asked, literally surrounded by the things.

"It says here that she had a boy because she was on a special diet. That's nonsense! It was complete chance that she had a boy! I suppose you know that Tim would have released a few million male _and_ female sperm, and the gender of the baby is decided - "

"Yes, I know," Oscar had said hastily, not wanting to hear too many details about Dylan Delaney-Price's conception.

"They shouldn't be allowed to print this!"

"Eden, come on, nobody's going to believe it. Kids learn this stuff at school."

"_Somebody_ must believe it. Does Kimmy Delaney believe it?"

Oscar had not read the article, and he hadn't talked to Tim and Kimmy about anything to do with special diets. He said feebly, "I don't know."

"Next time you see them," said Eden, "make sure they know how ridiculous it is."

As he stood cradling Dylan in his arms - while Tim, Kimmy and Courtney made themselves comfortable on his couch and the twins made for the pile of toys he'd put out for them - Oscar wondered how on earth he was supposed to broach the subject. In the end he chickened out, gave Dylan back to his mother and went to make them all drinks.

"I've got the Delaney-Prices in there," said Oscar.

"Oh," the demon said quietly, "don't mind me. I won't get in your way."

Oscar stuck his head out of the door to check on his guests. They seemed to be having no trouble entertaining themselves, so he sat down with the demon and said, "What's up?"

The demon raised its head from the table, where it had been staring into the darkness of its own elbows, and looked at him with bloodshot eyes. "I hate my job."

"Why don't you quit?"

"I can't. I'm a demon - I have to do what I do. I told you why I was created: people's views of love and marriage are becoming warped. I don't _like_ having to push people. It kind of goes against what I'm all about, in a way, because people are supposed to find their own paths. So why don't they _do_ it?"

"I, I don't know," Oscar said weakly. He stood up and started getting drinks, but kept talking to the demon. "Has something happened?"

"I've found out something about Maria Rodriguez. She wants to get married."

"What, to Max?"

"To anyone! And since she's seeing Max at the moment…"

"They've been going out for less than a week," said Oscar. "If it's not meant to be - "

"Oscar, how many more times?" the demon said shrilly. "How many more ways am I going to have to think of to explain this to you? There is no meant to be!"

"All right, so if Max and Maria aren't _not_ meant to be, what's the problem?"

"What's the problem," muttered the demon. "You are _such_ an idiot, Venkman."

"Hey!"

"If somebody doesn't ever get married," the demon went on, "people wonder _why_. They wonder it about _you_, you know. They say to each other, when you're not listening, 'Ooh, I wonder why Oscar never got married!' Why _did_ you never get married?"

"Because I never met the right woman."

"Ex-act-ly! That's it! It's so _obvious_! But people don't seem to realise this. There's no meant to be and there's no soul mates, but there _is_ right and wrong, and if people don't meet a right one they think you're supposed to cut your losses and marry a wrong one."

"How old is Maria?" asked Oscar.

"Twenty."

"Then Max shouldn't be in any danger of being made to marry her. If he's the wrong one, surely she'll realise, and know she's got plenty of time to do better."

The demon snorted. "You would think."

"What are you going to do?" asked Oscar.

"Try talking to him again. Get him to see what's in front of his face. I don't blame him, because he had such a tough start in life, but the guy's perception is totally warped. And this bitch has him wrapped around her little finger! If she wants to marry him, unless he can find an alternative that's too good to refuse, she _will_ marry him. I've talked to Rose."

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Rose Rivera?"

"Yeah. She won't remember, but I've planted the seed. They discuss girls, Max and Rose. She'll soon get him thinking about whether or not this woman's hot."

"Which she is."

"Oooh, don't let Dr. Jackson hear you say that."

"Ah, then I'm right about who she is," said Oscar, grinning. "Look, I really think you're focusing on the wrong person. You said yourself, Max just doesn't _do_ subtlety. And you also said she should tell him how she feels. Why not try making _that_ happen?"

The demon sighed heavily. "I just don't know if she can. Haven't you ever…? Oh, no, I suppose not - you've never been afraid of rejection because you're so sure of yourself. But the thing is, Oscar, that she's scared. She likes fantasising and dreaming and hoping, and she'd rather keep on doing that than be told no, that's it, end of story, dream over."

"_I_ wouldn't," said Oscar, "if it were me. I mean, if he's _not_ interested… she can move on, can't she? Hey, has she ever even had a -?"

He stopped short when something caught his eye. It was a little girl - one of the twins - standing in the doorway and staring up at him with enormous brown eyes. He took in the blue t-shirt, remembered which twin had been wearing it and said, "Hi, Madison."

She continued simply staring at him.

"Are you okay?"

"_I'm_ okay," she said.

"Right," said Oscar, "well, here's your Diet Dr. Pepper," and he handed her a plastic cup containing the vile beverage. "I'll bring the rest through in a minute, okay?"

Madison held his gaze a moment longer, then turned and began making her way back to her parents and siblings. Oscar waited until she was out of earshot, then flopped down on a chair and said, "Great, now Madison knows I'm crazy."

"Thinks," said the demon.

"What?"

"Madison _thinks_ you're crazy. To say she 'knows' is to imply that you _are_ crazy."

"Yeah, well, maybe I am."

"You are not! I'm more real than _half_ the things in this life!"

"Well," said Oscar, "I can't really talk right now - I have guests. I might go back to New York in the morning, if I can get a flight, and see what's happening. Rose and Anna are going home tomorrow, aren't they?"

"I don't know, probably," said the demon. "I don't worry about them."

It lowered its head into its arms again, and Oscar returned to his guests. Putting a tray of drinks down on the coffee table, he said blithely, "Sorry it took so long."

"Is everything okay in there?" asked Tim.

"I suppose your spy told you I was talking to myself."

Tim smiled dryly. "She may have mentioned it."

"Well, there's this invisible demon."

"Oh, really?" Tim looked genuinely concerned. He'd had ties with the Ghostbusters long enough. "Is it bothering you?"

"No, not really," said Oscar. "Now then, Kimmy, I have a friend who's interested in hearing about that special diet some magazine claims you did…"

.-.-.-.

**New York City**

Oscar did return to New York as early as he could the next morning. A returning pair of newlyweds was the perfect excuse to buy flowers, and - oh joy - Dawn Jackson was working. She had her boss with her, but she was doing paperwork in a small back room, so Oscar thought it was probably safe to talk. He started with a question he knew the answer to perfectly well: "Were you invited to the wedding?"

Dawn, tying a ribbon round a bouquet of yellow roses, shook her head. "Family only."

"I thought Max went." He _knew_ Max went!

"Well, he's kind of like family to Rose, isn't he?"

"Oh yeah, of course. I, uh… hear he's started seeing Anna's sister."

"You hear right. I've never met her, though, and all anyone seems to be able to tell me is that she's tiny - I can't give you any gossip. That's twenty-four dollars, please."

When Oscar met the demon outside the shop, he stared silently down at it for a few moments, and then said, "It _is_ her, right?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Okay. Are we absolutely sure about this? Because you wouldn't know it to talk to her."

"So she doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve," said the demon. "What's the problem?"

"The problem is," said Oscar, "that there's no evidence, which means that if you're imaginary I've just made it up. Why the hell would I do that?"

The demon scowled. "I'm not imaginary."

"She might not be in love with him at all. In fact I don't believe she is."

"She is. Now what are you gonna do with those flowers?"

"I'm going to take them to Rose," said Oscar. "Actually, I'd better call her first - she and Anna might be drawing each other in the nude or something."

"Oh, listen," said the demon, as Oscar started scrolling through the numbers stored in his cell phone. "Just because they're gay, and just because they're artists, doesn't mean - "

Oscar held up his finger to silence the demon, and said, "Hey, Rose, it's Oscar. I want to congratulate you on your marriage and give you some flowers - can I come over?"

"Yeah, sure," Rose said, as though she couldn't care less, though Oscar knew she'd be quietly touched. "The more the merrier - we've already got Max and Anna's sister here."

Oscar was most excited to hear this. Even though he was no longer sure about Dawn, he had become extremely curious to meet Maria Rodriguez, and now it appeared he was going to. He tried to keep the eagerness from his voice as he said, "I'll be right there."

.-.-.-.

"Anna's kinda cute really," said Nick, making himself comfortable on the couch with Charlotte. "Your sister's a lucky girl."

They had just got back from visiting the returning newlyweds, plus a little bit of shopping on the way home. Conchita had somehow ended up carrying everything except for her own daughter, and was now struggling through the door with her purchases.

"Mind you," Nick went on, "Rose is pretty hot too. I mean she's not as hot as you, Connie, obviously - but it's still kind of a waste."

"There are plenty of perfectly eligible straight women to go around," said Conchita, standing in the small kitchenette and unpacking her bags of household essentials. "Guys, on the other hand, are a different matter. Most of the good ones are gay."

Nick cocked an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yes. Or at least they are in _my_ experience. I suppose I've found the exception that proves the rule with you, have I?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"Well, I hope so. I'm going to the bathroom."

She went, and Charlotte was suddenly gripped with an urge to do something creative; so she let Nick know, and he settled her with a sketchpad and some wax crayons. Rose was already convinced they had another artist in the family. Apparently Charlotte's ability to draw crude looking faces with everything except a nose, all more or less correctly positioned, meant that she was very advanced for thirteen months.

When Conchita came back she sat down with Nick, leaned against him with her head on his shoulder and gazed lovingly at Charlotte. She had desperately wanted to be a mother for years before it happened, but she'd had no idea just what it was really going to be like; even now the love she felt for her child still astonished her. Eventually she said to Nick, "I'm so glad you love her as much as you do."

"Of course I love her," said Nick. "She's a great girl. And she's yours."

"Yeah? You don't think of her of ours?"

"Connie, I couldn't - she has a perfectly good relationship with Dennis."

"I guess," said Conchita. "I love you, you know."

"I love you too."

Conchita lifted her head off his shoulder and kissed him briefly. Then she glanced at the clock, said "I'll be right back," and shot off towards the bathroom once again.

She wasn't gone long. She came back in under a minute and told Nick, too quietly for Charlotte to hear, that she was pregnant.

Nick stared at her for a moment. Then he said, "Fuck!"

Conchita's gaze automatically shot over to her daughter. Charlotte seemed to be miles way, in her own little world of people without noses, but that was no reason to assume she wouldn't suddenly start saying "fuck" the next time she saw Carl and Beth.

"Yes," Conchita said to Nick, "we must have."

"What the hell do we do now?"

"Well, as far as I remember, the last time this happened I had a baby."

Nick continued to stare at her, open-mouthed, for a long time. Then suddenly his expression darkened, and he said, "Did you do this on purpose?"

At first, she was too surprised to be angry. She said simply, "What?"

"You heard."

Then the anger started to kick in. She felt her expression turn sour as she said, "Oh, gee, let me think - which one of us was supposed to put on the condom?"

"You're not usually sarcastic," said Nick.

"_You're_ not usually a jerk."

"I'm not ready for this."

"But it's happened. Anyway, you _are_ ready - you've been looking after Charlotte for almost a year."

"_You've_ been looking after her, Connie. I've been playing with her."

"I see," Conchita said tightly. "And you've been playing with me too, I suppose."

"I've got to get out of here." He stood up to leave.

"Nick," said Conchita.

"Yes?"

"Don't tell anyone."

He sighed, and said tightly, "Who would I tell?"

Her scowl deepened. "Oh, I don't know, let me see. You might want to tell your mom and dad they're going to be grandparents, maybe?"

"They're already grandparents," Nick muttered. He had an older sister with children.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know."

"When will you be back?"

"Aw jeez, who are you - my mother?"

She felt disinclined to say anything else after that, and he left without another word. Conchita stayed sitting on the couch, staring at the front door, until Charlotte crawled over to her looking concerned. Conchita picked her up and cuddled her, remembering that when one was little, there were few things worse than seeing one's mother upset.

.-.-.-.

"Do you _really_ need to take the elevator?" asked Oscar.

"No," said the demon, as the doors closed, "but there's something I want to ask you."

"Oh, really? And what's that?"

"Do you _really_ think Dawn Jackson's hot?"

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Did I say that?"

"Yes."

"Well, maybe if I was twenty years younger…"

"I have an idea why you'd make up that she's in love with Max," the demon went on. "It could be because they remind you of yourself and Amy."

"What? Max and Dawn remind me of myself and Amy Jackson? _That_ Amy?"

"Yes, that one."

"No. I don't know Dawn well enough for her to remind me of Amy - I only ever see her when I'm buying flowers. And Max is absolutely nothing like me. He's completely tone deaf, and the only time my body has _ever _looked like his was in my dreams."

"In that case I don't know," said the demon. "I _am_ real, but you make a good point. You see, I can't tell you anything you don't either know, assume or suspect."

"Who says?" asked Oscar.

"No one 'says' - I just physically _can't_. Look… it's complicated."

"So you _are_ imaginary."

"You assume there's a very clear line between reality and imagination," said the demon. "There isn't. But look, I'm not imaginary. It's more complicated than that, and there's absolutely no point in me trying to explain. I just can't tell you - "

"But you told me you talked to Rose about Max. I didn't know that - how could I?"

"You must have suspected that I'd talk to Rose."

"Why would I suspect that?"

"Because," the demon said irritably, "you know they're friends, and you probably suspect that they talk about girls - same as your pals Danny and Ella used to talk about guys at their age - and you know I talk to people about _other_ people that they're close to. Okay?"

"And you told me how old Maria Rodriguez is. _And_ you told me her _name_!"

"No I didn't!" said the demon. "You heard her age _and_ her name from somebody else - you've just forgotten because you're getting old and losing your marbles."

"And you told me - "

"Look, if you had transcripts of all your past conversations, you would see that everything I've been getting at has in some way entered your brain at some point. Now I don't know how you clicked about Max and Dawn, but I could have never even told you that I was concerned about two people who weren't getting together if you didn't already have some little hint on some kind of subconscious level about them. Okay?"

"No, _not_ okay," said Oscar. "When you told me that, I hadn't even _seen_ Dawn for - "

"Maybe it's been brewing since they were kids. Maybe you noticed something years and years and years ago. Now are you getting out of this damn elevator, or what?"

The doors had just opened, so Oscar stepped out into the hallway. It was not a very nice apartment block, but he'd been inside Rose and Anna's apartment once before, and knew that they'd made a nice little home for themselves in there. He knew they were poor, but poor was a very distant concept to him. He had been born into privilege, and had always been able to go to his parents for financial support before he was earning big money of his own; he couldn't imagine living off as little as Anna and Rose did.

Rose answered the door, and accepted the flowers with thanks. Almost as soon as they were in the living room with Anna, Max and Maria, she said, "Dawn Jackson again?"

"Yeah," said Oscar.

"Chita told me you bought _her_ some flowers from Dawn recently. You must like her. Sit down," she added, picking up a load of art materials to reveal a hidden armchair.

"Thanks," said Oscar, sitting down. "She's good with flowers. Hi, Max. Hi…"

He knew her name, but it seemed rude to blurt it out when she didn't know who he was. Max and Maria were on a two-seater sofa with their arms around each other; Anna was on a three-seater, where presumably Rose had been sitting, but she didn't rejoin her yet.

"This is Maria, Anna's sister," said Rose. "Maria, this is Oscar Venkman."

"Mmm, I know who he is," said Maria, smiling suggestively across the room at him.

Oscar took in her features as carefully as he could without seeming like some kind of pervert. Dawn had been right, or rather everyone who had talked to Dawn about Maria had been right: she was tiny. Though she was sitting down, Oscar could tell she was short like her sister, but with much less in the way of hips and breasts and such. Also like her sister she had blond hair, but it was longer, and blue eyes, but they were bigger. Oscar imagined that Anna had looked much like this when she was about twelve.

"Would you like something to drink?" Rose asked him.

"No thanks," said Oscar, because he couldn't bring himself to accept anything from a woman who lived in such poverty.

"So anyway," said Rose, sitting down beside Anna, "you're not into Dawn, then?"

"Rose," said Oscar. "I am much too old to be into Dawn."

"I was thinking about her the other day," Rose went on. "She's pretty cute, isn't she?"

"Oh, is she now?" said Anna.

"Not as cute as you, obviously," said Rose. "What do _you_ think, Max?"

Oscar felt himself smiling. Evidently the demon had been right about planting the seed in Rose's mind. Oscar didn't believe that he could have suspected the demon would make this conversation happen - it must have been talking even more rubbish than usual.

"Yeah, she's pretty hot," said Max.

"Hey!" said Maria.

"You're hotter," Max added, and he must have done something with the hand that was behind her, because she started shrieking and giggling in a very annoying manner.

Oscar felt rather discouraged. From the little - the _very_ little - he had seen, Max seemed keen on this girl, and it was hard to imagine a woman more physically unlike her than Dawn. But still, Max had been involved with women of all shapes, sizes and colours; there was no need to panic just yet. Hopefully.

"Why were you thinking about her?" Max asked Rose, once Maria had calmed herself.

"I don't know," said Rose. "I was just thinking she's such a nice girl, and she's pretty and everything, but she's never had a boyfriend. I wondered if maybe she was gay."

"Are you sure you wanna have this conversation in front of me?" Anna said dryly.

"Hey, come on, I wasn't thinking further ahead than that," said Rose. "I just wondered."

"Can't you tell?" asked Maria. She even had the voice of a twelve year old, Oscar noticed. "With your gay-dar?"

"The gay-dar is just a myth, Maria," said Anna. "You can't tell when it's not obvious."

"Oh." She looked disappointed. "So, like, how do you know who else is a lesbian?"

"Well," said Anna, "I think it's different for everyone."

"Yeah, well, anyway," said Oscar, sensing that Anna wanted rescuing from this, "Chita told me all about your wedding. Sounds like you had a good day."

"It was shit," said Maria.

Max looked horrified. Rose scowled at her, and Anna said shrilly, "Maria!"

"Well I'm sorry," Maria said, "but it could have been _so_ much more. You didn't even have bridesmaids! Me and Rose's sister - Connie or whatever her name is - _we_ should have been bridesmaids. That niece of yours could have been the flower girl - "

"She can barely even walk," said Rose.

"Tony could have held her up and been the ring bearer - it would have been _so _cute! And you hardly even invited anyone. You could have invited Mood Slime!"

"Isn't it more special if you only invite the people you're close to?" said Max.

"No," said Maria. "I guess maybe Tony _is_ a little young right now to be in charge of the rings, though. But hopefully he'll be about the right age when _I_ get married."

"Isn't the ring bearer supposed to belong to the guy?" asked Oscar.

"He can't," said Maria, "in a lesbian wedding."

"Yeah, but _you're_ not having a lesbian wedding, are you?"

"Oh, no, I guess not," she said, giggling. "Do you know any kids, Max? Ooh, Oscar - you've got nephews, haven't you? Are they cute?"

"They're adorable," said Oscar, "but I'm not sure my sister would allow it."

"What? Why the hell not?"

"She hates weddings."

"But she's married, isn't she?"

"Yeah," said Oscar, "she's married. She got married in jeans and a sweater at City Hall. There was just me, our parents and the guy's parents and brother and sister there."

Maria stared at him, open-mouthed, eyes boggling. It was as though he had told her that his sister had celebrated her marriage by sacrificing puppies on an altar. Then, when she finally found her voice, she said, "Oh my _God_!"

Oscar stayed for only a few minutes after that. It had just been a token visit, after all. When Rose was showing him out he asked quietly, "How rude would it be for us to discuss Max behind his back?"

Rose raised her eyebrows. "You want to know what I think of him and Maria?"

"Please."

"Do you really need me to tell you?"

"It sounds like she's planning on marrying him," said Oscar.

"Yeah, well," said Rose, "maybe that'd be better than them splitting up. Anna doesn't really get on with Maria, but she's still her sister - we'd both be taking sides."

"Well, I'll back you up. Poor Max!"

"Oh, he's all right. He says the sex is good."

"Yeah? She doesn't look old enough to have picked up many tricks."

"Oh, I've just realised," said Rose, looking suddenly horror-struck. "Even if she _doesn't_ marry Max, I'm still gonna have to go to her wedding - she's my sister-in-law. How the hell am I supposed to get out of _that_?"

"What is it about women and big weddings?" said Oscar. "You all seem to either love them or hate them. I'm indifferent - I think most men are."

"Well," said Rose, "I _do_ have a radical feminist theory about that. Remind me and I'll tell you all about it when we have more time."

"Y'know," said Oscar, "you could probably persuade Max to elope with her - whisk her off to Las Vegas or something. He always does what you tell him."

"Yeah? Even over what _she_ tells him?"

"I don't see why not. What's so special about her?"

"Nothing," Rose said darkly. "She's just more manipulative than most."

.-.-.-.

Conchita didn't see Nick again until she woke up in the middle of the night, and saw his outline in the darkness. She went to the bathroom, then got into bed and went straight back to sleep. When she woke in the morning, Nick had gone.

It was very upsetting. Minutes later she was leaning over the toilet, retching violently and wishing Nick was there to hear what his baby was doing to her body. That he could just disappear, and take such advantage of not being the one with the foetus inside him, was infuriating. Even as she was throwing up, Conchita wondered whether he would go to any scans or checkups or anything with her, and even if he'd be there after the child was born. It terrified her to think of that. She hadn't had the pregnancy confirmed by a doctor yet, but there was no other reason for the sickness. She knew how it felt to be pregnant, and this was definitely it.

For the next few days, she saw almost nothing of Nick. She once managed to catch him in the evening and persuade him to make love to her, but for the first time ever with him, it wasn't much fun. Conchita wondered what the hell to do about this. Dennis had been _too_ possessive of her, and now Nick didn't seem to want to know. Surely, _surely_ there had to be a happy medium.

.-.-.-.

When Jessica walked into what was left of the kitchen in her shell of a house, a little earlier than usual on Friday morning, she found an unexpected and unwelcome sight. For a moment she could only stare. Then, when the pair of people climbing into their clothes in the middle of the floor failed to notice her, she coughed loudly.

"Ah shit," said Nick, without any real conviction.

The young woman, whom Jessica did not recognise, at least had the decency to look embarrassed. She pulled on her jeans so quickly that she got into a terrible mess, while Nick put on his t-shirt as though he was getting dressed for work in his own home.

"Excuse me," Jessica said to the woman, once she had managed to put all of her clothes on. "Am I paying you to be here?"

The woman turned round and fled out of the back door. Nick watched her go, and then looked at Jessica. He still didn't even look sheepish - just impatient, as though he didn't care what his fate was and didn't have time to waste waiting around to hear it.

"Who the hell was that?" asked Jessica.

Nick shrugged. "Just a girl I picked up."

"You realise I can't keep this to myself, don't you?"

"Really?" He sounded unperturbed. "Would _you_ wanna be told?"

"Yes. Wouldn't you?"

"No," said Nick. "What you don't know can't hurt you."

"I'm telling her."

"Well, it's gonna hurt. She won't wanna hear it - not now that she's pregnant."

Jessica blinked. "She's pregnant?"

"Oh, hey, don't tell anyone, okay?" said Nick. "Are you gonna fire me?"

"What, for cheating on someone I know?"

"Jess, c'mon, we both know that'd be unlawful dismissal. I mean for doing it on your building site."

"Oh," said Jessica. "No, no, of course not. If you did something on my building site to hurt one of my children, then maybe, but as it is I need you to at least finish this job."

"Great, thanks," said Nick, looking relieved. "Look, please don't tell Connie, okay? I'll do it myself."

"Really?"

"Yeah, well, you'd tell her if I didn't and I'd rather she heard it from me."

.-.-.-.

The following afternoon, Oscar was still in New York, so Jessica had him and their parents over and made them play with Tom. He had been fighting with Robbie, until Hayden bundled the younger brother screaming into Jessica's car and took him grocery shopping, and now their mother was running out of patience.

The phone rang, and no one took any notice of Jessica while she had a two-minute conversation with the caller. Then she came into the living room - where Tom, Peter, Dana and Oscar had got out Tom's car collection and were simulating fatal accidents - and said, "Guess who's coming over to play with you."

"Marie," Tom said hopefully. He had an enormous crush on Marie Lupin, one of the current team of Ghostbusters, and what was more she seemed to encourage it.

"No," said Jessica. "Charlotte. Now you play nicely with her, okay? Remember she's made out of glass."

"Charlotte doesn't get treated like she's made out of glass," said Oscar, following his sister into the kitchen, where she opened a cupboard and started pulling out vast quantities of chocolate.

"Not by Nick," said Jessica. "But as far as I know, he's out of the picture now."

"Yeah? Do you think Chita would cut him off from her completely?"

Oscar knew what it was all about. Jessica had told him about finding Nick with that woman, and his promise to tell Conchita about it before she did. Oscar was very sorry, but not at all surprised to hear that he had been proved right about the guy.

"I don't know," said Jessica. "Maybe not, as… you'll have to ask her, won't you?"

Conchita arrived about half an hour after that. Charlotte got settled in the living room with Tom and his grandparents; then Jessica dragged Conchita through to the kitchen, pushed her onto a chair and said, "Don't worry, I've got _heaps_ of chocolate here. Do you want some booze? Oh - probably not. So come on, what did he say?"

Oscar was still there, and Conchita caught his eye as Jessica produced yet more comfort food from the fridge. He gave her a sympathetic smile, and she smiled weakly back.

"Not much," said Conchita, taking a very small chocolate bar from the selection Jessica had dumped on the table in front of her, and picking idly at the wrapper. "He said he had sex with some girl once, at your building site, and you walked in on him. He didn't say who she was. I don't suppose you…?"

"I didn't recognise her," said Jessica, starting on a chocolate bar herself.

"Oh. I… wondered if maybe there was any more you could tell me."

"Any more like what?"

"Well," said Conchita, "I wanted to check… how far had they actually got when you caught them?"

"Oh, they were all done," said Jessica. "They were getting dressed."

Conchita nodded slowly.

"If they hadn't actually gotten started yet," said Jessica, "would that have made a difference to you?"

"Probably not."

"_Probably_ not? Chita, come on - the intention would have still been there."

Before Conchita could answer, the front door opened, and Hayden appeared in the narrow hallway with two grocery bags in one arm and Robbie hanging off the other. Jessica went and took Robbie from him, saying, "Hello, baby. Look - all my favourite boys are here!"

"What are you going to do now?" Oscar asked quietly.

Conchita shook her head despairingly. "I don't know. God, I don't know why I even came here - like she could tell me anything that wouldn't make me even madder. Hi, Hayden," as Hayden walked in with his grocery bags.

"Hi," he said. "Sorry about the tough break."

"I had a boyfriend once," said Jessica, sweeping back onto the scene, "who cheated on me with his sister-in-law. Can you believe that? I just don't know what goes through their heads - not if they're getting everything they need at home. I mean, when Hayden wants to have sex, he does it with me - don't you, Hayd?"

"Oh," said Hayden, "you noticed."

Jessica started giggling childishly. Hayden finished stuffing the fruits of his shopping trip into a high cupboard, and then left with a sympathetic smile at Conchita, much like the one Oscar had given her.

"Are you gonna eat that?" asked Jessica, nodding at the chocolate bar in Conchita's hand.

"Oh," said Conchita. She put it down. "I don't really feel like it."

"You _have_ been eating, haven't you?" Jessica said sternly.

"Yes."

"Good. Would you like something else instead?"

"No thank you, I'm really not hungry."

"Conchita, come on, you're pregnant."

Oscar started, but didn't say anything. Conchita sat up sharply and stared at Jessica with her mouth open, until finally she was able to squeak, "_What_?"

"Didn't Nick tell you?" Jessica said flippantly.

"You mean he told _you_?"

"He mentioned it."

"Oh my God," moaned Conchita, putting her head in her hands. "He wasn't supposed to tell anyone! I _told_ him not to tell anyone!"

"Relax," said Jessica. "It's just me… and now Oscar that know."

"I'm nowhere _near_ twelve weeks yet! This could jinx it!"

"Don't be so superstitious," said Jessica. "You're younger and healthier than I was when I had mine - you'll be fine."

"Be nice if I was married and rich like you were," Conchita said quietly. "He cheated on me _because_ I'm pregnant - I'm sure of it."

"I don't get it," said Oscar. In spite of all his reservations about Nick, something still didn't fit. "What about Charlotte? He totally worships her."

"Yeah, he does," said Conchita. "But Charlotte's not his responsibility, is she? My income and Dennis's child support pay for her, and if Nick _did_ want to leave, he'd have no obligation to her. He probably _would_ have left, eventually, if this is his attitude. Don't get me wrong - I really want this baby - but I'm terrified! He could have kids all over the country and never give their mothers a cent!"

"Well," said Jessica, "I wouldn't start panicking just yet. He's got - what - about eight months to come around to the idea?"

"Something like that," Conchita said dully. "I was only a few days late when I took the test. I haven't even had it confirmed yet - I don't want to even _think_ about hospital visits right now. God, I hate those places."

"Oh, me too," Jessica said brightly. "You should use Sian."

"Who?"

"The midwife who delivered Robbie. Aw, Chita, she's _so_ excellent. She comes to you at home for all your antenatal appointments, and when you go into labour you just have to call her - no matter what time it is - and then she comes over with all her hippie birthing equipment and she's - Hayden!" as Hayden appeared in the hallway, seemingly making for the stairs. "Come here and tell Chita about Sian."

"Sian?" said Hayden, sounding mildly surprised. He came to stand in the kitchen doorway, and said, "She's fantastic - you'd love her. Are you pregnant?"

"Yes," Conchita said miserably.

"Congratulations," said Hayden. "Well, she's fully qualified, and she's very professional. She can tell the size and the position of the baby just by sort of squeezing you, and she can listen to its heart… you get everything really you need from her, and _nearly_ everything you would in hospital. She can't do all those tests they do, though, so she won't be able to tell you if it's got any syndromes or anything. But you didn't have those with Charlotte, did you, because you were worried about damaging her. And she can't administer drugs, but she _has_ got pain relief - what did you use with Charlotte?"

"Gas and air," Conchita said robotically.

"Oh well, you'll be fine, then - she's _got_ that," said Hayden.

"And she's got other stuff too," said Jessica. "_I_ found most of it pretty useless, but it might work for you - and you should definitely try the space hopper."

"The what?"

"Birthing ball," said Hayden.

"I sat on it for like ninety percent of the time," said Jessica. "She's fantastic - she just lets you do it your own way. Doesn't that sound better than a hospital?"

"I guess so," Conchita said weakly.

"We've still got her number," said Hayden. "Would you like me to give her a call?"

"Yes, do that," said Jessica.

"Oh, hey, wait!" said Conchita.

"No harm in talking to her," said Hayden. "Loads of people make appointments to meet her and then don't use her after all - she'd completely understand if you decided you didn't want her. She only cares that you have the birth that's right for you. And she _is_ good. Robbie's birth was a much more positive experience all round than Tom's was."

"Even for me," added Jessica.

"Oh, all right, call her," Conchita said resignedly. Then she added, "Thanks."

Hayden went to the phone in the hallway, riffled through a notepad next to it and finally dialled a number. After a few seconds he said, "Hi, Sian, it's Hayden Wallance… Yes, that's right… No, we're not, but I've got a friend here who's pregnant and she's thinking about having the baby at home…"

"I'm not sure about this," said Conchita. "I mean, being at home - wherever _that_ may be - without any doctors, after giving birth? I felt pretty lousy after I had Charlotte."

"Don't worry - second labours are a breeze," said Jessica. "I happen to know that your mom felt lousy after she had you, and _my_ mom felt lousy after she had Oscar - and just between the three of us, I felt worse than I let on after I had Tom. But when I was born, and Rose was born, and Robbie was born… it was all fine."

Before Conchita could think of an answer, Hayden called her to the phone. He then left her to talk to Sian, and went upstairs; Oscar suspected that he'd been trying to go to the bathroom ever since he left the living room.

"I just hope she doesn't end up using her out of politeness," said Oscar.

"Oh, shut up - they'll get on like a house on fire," said Jessica. "You met her. Chita'll be really into all that pregnancy yoga and candles and shit she wanted to do with me."

When Hayden came back, he joined Oscar and Jessica at the kitchen table and said, "She remembered me. Well, she remembered Robbie, anyway."

"Did she ask after me?" asked Jessica.

"No, just Robbie."

Before he had even finished speaking, an argument started up in the living room. Hayden and Jessica spent a few moments arguing about who should go and deal with it, and then they both went. Oscar noticed Conchita looking anxiously through the living room doorway, but apparently Charlotte wasn't involved, as she went straight back to her conversation. Then, eventually, she hung up and rejoined Oscar in the kitchen.

"She sounds really nice," she said. "Did you ever meet her?"

"Yeah," said Oscar, "I used to keep Tom out of the way when she came to appointments with Jess. She's a really nice woman - but if you don't want her to deliver your baby, Chita, you _will_ politely decline, won't you?"

"Well, she _sounds_ great, and I really do like the idea of having it at home. Jess is right about hospitals - when I had Charlotte they treated me like a sick person and tried to make me do it all _their_ way. But the problem is I don't _have_ a home! I mean, would I have it at my mom and dad's? That's where I've arranged to meet her - when they're out, of course, because they don't know I'm pregnant. Oh God, that's terrible, isn't it?"

"Maybe you should tell them."

"I can't. Nick's already jinxed it with Jessica - I mustn't make it worse. Anyway, I want to wait until they're over him cheating on me. Dad wants to kill him enough as it is."

"You're timing's not the best with these things, is it?" Oscar said carefully.

"No," said Conchita. "Maybe I _should_ have married Dennis. Oh! I'm sorry, Baby," she said, looking down at her lower abdomen as her eyes filled with tears. "That's it - I'll miscarry for sure now."

"Don't assume that."

"I'm such an idiot. I didn't do this on purpose, but I kept _hoping_ it would happen, and that was stupid enough in itself. I want babies, but I don't think about how I'm going to look after them. I mean, look at me! No man, not even a _home_…"

"Stop that," said Oscar. "You couldn't have known Nick would react like this."

"Ha, yeah, well - I had enough hints. Oscar, if Nick won't support me…"

"You don't have to worry about that yet."

"I couldn't go back to Dennis now even if I wanted to. I mean, _you_ know what he's like - he'd never accept another man's child. I don't mean I'd expect him to be its dad or anything, but I just don't believe he could live with Nick's kid under any circumstances."

"I think you're right," said Oscar, "at the moment. But people can change."

"God, my sister would be furious if she heard me talking about going back to Dennis just for security. It's not very Independent Woman, is it? And _your _sister would go nuts."

"Yeah, well, Jessica's a millionaire. What does _she_ know?"

"Yeah, and Rose is a lesbian who doesn't want kids. That must be _so_ much easier."

"What makes you so sure Nick's not gonna support you? I mean, _you_ dumped _him_, didn't you - is there really any reason to assume he wouldn't have stuck around for you and the baby, if Jess hadn't caught him?"

"He reacted _so_ badly when I told him I was pregnant," said Conchita. "And then he just kept avoiding me. You know - getting home late, getting up early… I hoped he might come round, but… I don't know. When he told me Jess caught him cheating on me, he didn't even seem to care."

"You _could_ take him to court," said Oscar, "if he really refuses to help you out."

"Yeah, right, and how much would _that_ cost?"

"I could - "

"Don't even think it! Anyway, I don't want to. If he doesn't want to be involved, then that's his decision. I'll manage."

"Chita," said Oscar, "can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Do you still love him?"

"Oh God, I don't know. What difference does it make?"

"Well, if he wanted to come back…"

"Oh Jesus, look, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. _If_ I come to it."

"Fair enough. So… congratulations on the _good_ news, anyway."

"Well thank you. If this one's a boy," said Conchita, smiling for the first time since she arrived, "I'll stop getting myself pregnant, I promise."

"Who are you promising? Me?"

"No, me."

"What if it's a girl?"

"I don't know."

"You'll have to talk to Kimmy Delaney about that special diet of hers."

Conchita laughed through her tears. "Oh God, yeah, I remember that. I suppose it was only a few weeks ago, wasn't it? The Spenglers were furious. I told them - I said, 'No one's actually going to believe it.' Even _I'm_ not dumb enough to fall for that."

"All right," said Oscar, "now listen to me a minute. You're not the one who's dumb. _They_ are. I mean, these guys… you love them, and you're carrying their child, and you're prepared to marry them… and then they go and do something _really_ stupid! If I had that, I'd hold onto it with both hands. Just… maybe not as tight as Dennis did."

Conchita laughed again, sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "You're so sweet to me."

"Yeah, you're my friend."

"I guess we'd better go," she said suddenly, rising to her feet. "Sounds like Charlotte's outstayed her welcome."

"I'm going home tomorrow," said Oscar, "so I guess this is goodbye for a while. But call me if you need… I don't know… anything."

"What, like a father for my baby?"

"Maybe Nick'll come through."

"Yeah," Conchita said dubiously. "Maybe."

.-.-.-.

The next morning was one that Charlotte was scheduled to spend with her father, meaning that Conchita had to call Dennis and tell him to come to her parents' apartment. He turned up indecently early, catching Conchita in a towelling robe with only half her hair brushed, and Eduardo, Kylie and Charlotte still asleep.

"You're living here, then," he said.

"Yes. Did you come here early to try and catch me out?"

"Of course not. Can I come in?"

She stepped aside to let him pass, and then led him through to the kitchen. She started making coffee for him, and for herself a hot drink that was rich in natural ingredients and totally without caffeine. She wondered if he might guess she was pregnant; she'd drunk a lot of that stuff when she was carrying Charlotte.

"What happened with Nick?" asked Dennis.

Conchita raised her eyebrows. "Is that any of your business?"

"Yes, because it affects Charlotte."

"Oh, you're right - maybe we'd better go back to him."

"That's not what I meant," Dennis said hastily. He was silent for a moment, clearly wondering how to say what he wanted to say, before going on. "Look… I think I get it now. I mean I do - I _do _get it. I know what I did. If I'd just trusted you not to run off with Nick - or anyone - you wouldn't have, would you? _I_ pushed you away."

"I _would_ have married you," said Conchita.

"Yeah, well… I'd never behave like that again."

"Dennis, are you asking me to come back?"

"Well… yes, I suppose I am."

Conchita's head was immediately filled with a very obvious, very evil scheme. Go back to Dennis; make love to him that night; convince him the baby was his… but of course, when the child actually appeared, it would be obvious that it had no more oriental blood than she did. But, flawed or not, she never would have done it.

"Oh, Dennis," she said. "I can't - not now."

"Why not?"

"Well… something's happened. But I can't tell you yet."

"Of course you can."

"No," said Conchita, "I can't."

What else could she say? He'd find out eventually, and then he wouldn't want her back? If she told him that, surely it would be obvious what she was getting at.

"But Connie - "

"I'll go get Charlotte. Oh… hi," as Eduardo - whom she would not have expected to see so early in the morning - appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Be nice to Dennis, okay?"

Eduardo had never liked Dennis. He didn't like Nick either. In fact he had never liked a single one of Conchita's boyfriends. He had immediately hit it off with Anna, but his older daughter was still waiting for that kind of approval on her romantic choices. Mind you, she now reflected, he had been proved right every time.

Dennis sat awkwardly drinking his coffee, both of them silent. Then, when he could stand it no longer, he said, "So how are you?"

"Fine," Eduardo said curtly.

There was another long silence. Then Dennis said, "Hey, um - is she…?"

"What?"

"Okay?"

"She's fine. We're looking after her."

"Ah," said Dennis, nodding slowly. Of course he wasn't allowed to be concerned about the mother of his child - her father had the monopoly on that. And it was no good angling for a hint as to what her secret was. There was no way Eduardo would let anything slip.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, Conchita returned carrying Charlotte - washed and dressed - and handed her to Dennis, saying, "Look who's here!"

"Hello, princess," said Dennis, hugging the child tightly.

"Have a cuddle with Daddy while I fix your breakfast," Conchita said bracingly. "So what have you got planned for today, then?"

"Connie," Dennis said pleadingly. "What's happened?"

"Happened?" echoed Eduardo, looking at Conchita. "Has something else happened?"

"It's nothing," she lied, concentrating especially hard on Charlotte's morning meal.

"Clearly it's not," said Dennis.

Conchita sighed heavily. It was mostly superstition and fear that were stopping her. She wasn't through the first trimester yet - the most precarious time in any pregnancy - and she so wanted that baby. Some might say that miscarrying under those circumstances wouldn't necessarily be such a terrible thing. If it happened, then she could go back to Dennis and have another child with him. But she couldn't think that even for a moment. This was her child, and whatever else happened, she badly wanted it.

But Dennis and Eduardo were as bad as each other, and any minute Kylie might appear and join them in piling on the pressure. Conchita could see she wasn't going to be allowed to get away with it. And anyway, perhaps it would be kinder to put Dennis out of his misery. He might even surprise her. If he really had changed for the better, and wasn't going to be possessive anymore, then it shouldn't bother him that another man's child was growing inside her. Nick had accepted Dennis's child already - now maybe the reverse could be true too (and that, she thought, was irony for you).

"All right," said Conchita. "Dad, can you get Mom?"

Eduardo looked at her for a moment, then at her half-finished distinctive-smelling drink, and she knew that he had guessed. Without saying anything else, he went to fetch Kylie.

"So," said Conchita. "What _do_ you have planned?"

"I'm taking her to my mom and dad's. We'll probably all go to the park or something."

"Oh. Great. She'll like that."

They stayed in awkward silence for a while, until Eduardo and Kylie showed up. Then Conchita said quickly, before she could change her mind, "I'm pregnant."

It was Charlotte that gave the most positive response, and the most indication that she had understood. She stared up at her mother and said interestedly, "Baby?"

"That's right, honey." Conchita went over to Charlotte, took her hand and pressed it against her lower abdomen. "In there."

She looked at Dennis, and was not encouraged by his expression. Either he needed time to come around to the idea of being stepfather to Nick's child, or her suspicions were correct. Without speaking Conchita lifted Charlotte out of Dennis's arms, put her in her highchair and started giving her some breakfast.

"Chita," said Eduardo, "did Nick know you were pregnant when he -?"

"Dad!" hissed Conchita.

"What did he do?" asked Dennis.

"Want Nick!" Charlotte announced, looking suddenly very unhappy.

"Oh, honey," said Conchita. "I'll… try to arrange for you to see him."

"Oh, hey - hold on a minute!" said Dennis.

"Dennis, for God's sake, she's thirteen months old," said Conchita. "You can't expect her to just give up somebody she loves. Anyway, he's gonna have to stay in touch with us if he wants contact with his child, isn't he?"

Dennis looked furious, and for a long time he didn't speak. Then he said tightly, "Maybe I'd better wait outside," and he left.

"Well," said Conchita, when she heard the front door closing, "_he_ hasn't changed."

"So did he?" Eduardo asked sharply.

"Did he what?"

"Know you were pregnant when he cheated on you."

"Oh… well…"

"That's a yes."

"Dad," said Conchita. "Please don't do anything to Nick. He needs to be in good physical condition to work, and I'll need his child support. I'll _really_ need his child support," she added quietly. "You're very quiet, Mom."

"Am I?" said Kylie.

"It was an accident - I'm not _that_ stupid. We were careful."

"I'm sure you were, honey. It happens."

"Mmm, it happens to me quite a lot, doesn't it?" said Conchita. "Maybe I'll give up men for a few years. _You'd_ like that, wouldn't you, Dad? Oh, by the way, there's a woman coming round tomorrow - she's a midwife. She delivered Robbie."

"You must have contacted her through Jessica," said Kylie.

Conchita nodded. "It wasn't me - Nick told her."

"Oh, that's it," said Eduardo. "I'm gonna - "

"Dad, stop that."

"Have you even heard from him since you left?" asked Kylie.

"No," Conchita admitted. "After Charlotte's gone I'll call him and ask him if he wants to come to the meeting with Sian."

"Are you optimistic?" Kylie asked grimly.

Conchita let out a small sigh, and said, "I try to be."

.-.-.-.

Oscar had spent his last night of that particular stint in New York with Natalie Daniels, a young woman whom he'd met through the Ghostbusters about nineteen years ago, when she was eight years old. He didn't have much stuff with him, as his parents kept his old bedroom well stocked: just a backpack with a few essentials in it, and an acoustic guitar, both of which he took to Natalie's apartment in preparation to go straight to the airport in the morning. He planned to call a cab, as his New York car lived at his parents' house.

In the morning, he woke Natalie by sitting cross-legged on her bedroom floor and playing his guitar topless. It was the only opportunity he'd had since arriving, which wasn't good, because he was supposed to be composing for a new album.

Natalie rolled over onto her front, giving no real signs of wakefulness, except to mumble sleepily, "I suppose you think you're being sexy like in _Coyote Ugly_."

"What, that movie where she writes songs and then sells them to Leanne Rimes?" said Oscar. "That made me sick."

"She got stage fright."

"Yeah, but she _overcame_ her stage fright - that was the whole point of the - "

"Shut up, Oscar."

"Nat," said Oscar, "do you -?"

"Oh wait, wait, let me go to the bathroom."

She pulled on a t-shirt, which happened to be his, went to the bathroom and then came and joined him on the floor a few minutes later.

"Well?" she said.

"Do you want to get married?"

Natalie said nothing.

"Not to me," said Oscar.

"Jesus Christ, Oscar, last time it was did I want kids - why do you _ask_ me this stuff?"

"I don't really know. Well… it's not about you, anyway - I'm just interested in people's opinions. So do you?"

"Not particularly."

"Oh," said Oscar, "that's not what I meant."

"What _did_ you mean?" asked Natalie, with forced patience.

"Well, just imagine you were in love."

"Who with?"

"I don't know, a guy. And you really, genuinely love him and you want to spend the rest of your life with him. Would you want to get married, or would you be content just - you know - cohabiting?"

"Oscar," said Natalie. "How can I possibly know that now?"

"All right," said Oscar. "Do you think that if somebody doesn't want to get married, it has to mean they're not fully committed? Is it like having one foot in the door?"

"No."

"How come?"

"Because," she said, "my dad and his girlfriend have been together for twenty-five years, they have two children, they're very happy and there's no marriage certificate."

"Oh, I see," said Oscar, not very convincingly. Conchita had said something similar a while ago, but he just couldn't grasp it. He wondered if maybe it was a class thing - they all knew that he was a few rungs above both women on the social ladder.

"Oscar," said Natalie, "if people want to stay together, they stay whether they're married or not; and if they want to leave, they _leave_ whether they're married or not."

"So you don't think it makes a difference?"

"It depends who we're talking about. Is this about Nick?"

"You know about that?" said Oscar.

"He cheated on her and she dumped him. I heard it from Max, who heard it from Rose - these things get out quickly."

Oscar breathed out. So she didn't know Conchita was pregnant. That was a relief. The last Oscar had heard, even the grandparents-to-be didn't know, so if the news spread any further outside Nick's circle (whomever that might consist of) then it had to be _his_ sister's fault. Well… it could have been Hayden's, but that was very unlikely.

"I know your sister's plans never to get married were thwarted by her falling in love," Natalie went on, "but I'm _not_ in love right now, and maybe - probably - I never will be. As things stand, I am more than happy to stay single."

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "What, forever?"

"Yeah, sure. Who wants to get married?"

"Most people."

"Well, not me. There's just no reason for it - like, for one thing, what's the point in getting married if you don't wanna have kids?"

"Um… love?" said Oscar. "I don't know - you'll have to ask AJ about that."

"AJ, huh? Oscar, tell me you're not still hung up on her."

"Of course I'm not. But I _do_ still wonder… just, y'know, sometimes… why she married that guy when she could have had me."

"Oh, so do I," said Natalie. Then she got up onto her knees and wrapped her arms around his naked shoulders. "I _still_ say she was nuts."

She kissed him, which led to them having sex one more time - on the floor. What Oscar liked about Natalie - or one of the things he liked - was the positive effect she had on his self-esteem. Since he had come into the public eye as a young man, things had happened to him to make him doubt his own magnificence, of which he was once so certain; but Natalie had been happy to stroke his ego for him ever since she was a little girl.

He was in her bedroom doorway, ready to go to the airport and leave her dozing, when she said, "Do _you_ wanna get married?"

"There's not much point in wanting to," said Oscar. "It might still happen, but then again, it might very well not."

"I bet _someone_ would marry you."

"Yeah, I bet _someone_ would. I'll see you, Nat."

"Hey," she said. "Just curious - when are you back in town?"

"Um…" Oscar thought for a moment. He was going to be working flat out on the band's new album for a while, and then Mood Slime were off on tour with its release. He would definitely have to miss both Tom and Robbie's birthdays, in October and November - and Thanksgiving as well - meaning that he'd have to make up for them at Christmas. So he said, "Christmas. Or a bit before."

That was five months away. Conchita's pregnancy would be showing by then, and everyone would know about it. She would have decided whether or not to have Sian deliver the baby, and hopefully she'd know where she was going to be living when the time came. Nick could be anywhere by then: on a plane to Alaska; at Conchita's feet, begging her to take him back; dumped in a body of water somewhere by Eduardo…

"_I'd_ worry more about Max, if I were you," said the demon, who was lurking outside the apartment block.

"He'll be okay," said Oscar. "Even if Maria _does_ marry him, it's not the end of the world. If people want to leave, they leave, whether they're married or not. Look at Nat's mom and dad. Look at Mom and Andre. Look at Janine and Louis."

"I prefer not to talk about that, if you don't mind," said the demon.

"You know what?" said Oscar, changing the subject as a thought occurred to him. "I wish I _was_ in love with Conchita. Then I could ask her to marry me, and she and her kids could live off my millions. God knows, I struggle to think what I should do with it all."

"She'd never allow it."

"What about if she loved me?"

"She still wouldn't want to be kept, in spite of getting herself into the shit. I don't know about her. She… I mean, she sees men as sperm donors. She used to run around like a headless chicken trying to get dates, but as soon as she's pregnant, she doesn't seem to care anymore whether she has a man or not. I don't think that's a very good attitude."

"Where is that cab?" Oscar said irritably.

"What's this?" said the demon. "Not prepared to pass judgement on Princess Conchita?"

"Look," said Oscar. "_I've_ never felt the ache of an empty womb. _I've_ never been in love with a guy who turned out to be a complete dick. And neither have you, I'll bet."

"No - Danny's not a complete dick."

"You're in love with Danny, huh?"

"No," the demon said irritably. "_You_ are."

"Look, I love Danny the same way I love Conchita. And I _do_ love them. Both of them. But I don't feel desperately, hopelessly in love with either of them like some people feel about each other, and I don't want sleep with either of them."

"Really? I thought everyone wanted to sleep with Conchita."

"She's a beautiful girl," said Oscar, "but let's face it - she's not really my type, is she?"

"Danny-boy's birthday tomorrow," the demon said casually.

"Yep. Hopefully it'll take his mind off his little brother's rapidly degenerating marriage - but I suppose you know all about that, don't you?"

"'Course I do. Have you got anything planned?"

"Yeah, sure. We'll all be making one big final push on the new album. Fun, huh?"

"When's it coming out?"

"Hopefully - if luck and God and any other mystic forces are on our side - September. To mark the twentieth anniversary of _Killerwatt_, our first one."

"That's cutting it fine. You shouldn't have dragged your heels at the beginning."

"I know," said Oscar. "It was that damn documentary getting in the way. And now I'm gonna worry about it until it airs, and that's not until sometime next year."

"Isn't that how you and Danny bonded in the first place? By writing songs?"

"We kissed during our first ever song-writing session, and you know it. He and I have kind of a special relationship - I've never denied that."

"What are you gonna call it?"

"Call what?"

"Duh," said the demon. "The album."

"Oh, right. _Adventures in Slime and Space_."

"Oh, Oscar, that's terrible!"

"I know," said Oscar, "but we're well enough established to get away with it."

"Here comes your cab," said the demon. "I'm gonna stay here for a while… see what I can do about Max and Laughing Girl."

"I wouldn't if I were you," said Oscar. "He's young. So's Maria. So's Dawn. They'll figure it out."

"Yeah, well…"

"Okay, stop talking to me," as the cab approached.

"Sure. We'll meet up and compare notes when you're here at Christmas."

THE END


End file.
